


Games

by leopoldstotch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopoldstotch/pseuds/leopoldstotch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is always playing games. Always. There's not a moment that doesn't go by where he's not planning something annoying.</p>
<p>So this HAS to be one of his games. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Games

Sebastian would never say it, but he hated the games Jim played.

He dreaded coming home to new locks on the doors.

Wires strung across the flat.

Notes plastered on every surface.

_**"I’m somewhere in the city; come find me.”** _

_**“I've hidden your best rifle somewhere in the flat.”** _

_**“One of your phones is now an explosive, but I don‘t remember which one. Be careful, Sebastian.”** _

“You have to be on your toes at all times if you’re going to be exclusive with me,” Jim would always tell his sniper. 

And he would.

He never faltered on a task, no matter how trivial. Homemade bombs were detonated, wires were snipped, and the madman would always be brought back home.

The games never stopped at that.

Sebastian would lay bound in bed, staying painfully hard for what seemed like an eternity. Jim’s teeth creating perfect circles of bruises on his skin. 

"I don’t love you.” Jim would say. “I don’t need you.”

With a smile, Sebastian would nod and agree, knowing without a doubt that he was lying. 

_**I don‘t believe you, arse,**_ he would think, but never dared to say aloud. 

“I know.” 

Because Jim was playing his favorite game. The one where he could see Sebastian’s skin flush and breath hitch. Sebastian loved Jim, and Jim only pretended he didn’t love him back.

So now, as Sebastian sat on the couch, alone, face drenched with sweat and tears, he pleaded.

_**This is a game, Jim, I know it. It’s a game, and you’re going to come home and greet me at the door with that stupid fucking Cheshire grin of yours and drag me into bed like you always do because this is a game, just please let it be a game.** _

Sebastian stared at the door of the flat they shared, waiting anxiously for someone who would never come home.

_**Please.** _


End file.
